For some reason, it crosses my mind that Kai probably needs a book calledHow to Function Like a Normal Teenager While Being Stupidly Good at Everything.
It’s silly, but it makes me smirk.
“Something funny?” Kai asks smoothly, his tone calm but with a pointed edge.
Christian raises an eyebrow but says nothing.
Wait. No. Did I just… Ohgod.
I did not just say that out loud.
Yep. This is officially the most mortifying day of my life. And considering my track record, that’s saying something.
My cheeks flush crimson. “So… theclassics!” I blurt, my voice unnaturally bright. I force a laugh, attempting to change the subject.
It doesn’t work.
TWENTY
Isilently pray my blush isn’t as obvious as it feels. But I can still sense the heat crawling up my neck, blooming across my cheeks.
Throwing myself into a deep, dark hole and staying there forever suddenly seems like a solid life plan.
Kai leans in closer, his eyes gleaming with a cold, sharp edge. “What was that?” he asks, and I panic.
“I didn’t say anything,” I reply, maybe a little too quickly, because my voice comes out a little too high. A little too bright.
Forget falling into a hole, at this point I’m digging myself one.
He tilts his head. “No?” His expression doesn’t change, but something in his eyes flickers. “I could’ve sworn I heard my name,” he says casually, running a hand along the spines of the books beside him. “Something about being stupidly good at everything?”
“You hear that a lot, don’t you?” I say, trying for sarcastic, but it comes out more breathless than anything else.
“Jealous?” he says, tilting his head again.
Yes.
“No,” I lie.
He studies me for a second too long, and I can’t help but feel self-conscious under his gaze. I glance away, pretending to be interested in the shelf beside us, though my eyes don’t actuallyregister any of the titles. I already know none of them can teach me how to stay calm when Kai Steele looks at you like that.
And when he looks likethat,it’s kind of hard not to be hyper aware of the differences between us.
Me, with my wrinkled uniform and cheap shoes, hair frizzing at the edges.
Meanwhile he looks like the kind of beauty that doesn’t belong to this world, like the earth borrowed him for a moment and forgot to take him back.
I hate that I notice. I hate that it matters to me when it usually doesn’t.
Then he shrugs, a slow, easy motion. “That’d make sense. I mean—” he lifts a hand like he’s measuring something invisible, “—it’s hard not to envy perfection.”
I snort. “Wow. You’re humble, too.”
His mouth quirks—not quite a smile, not quite not. “Though what was it you said, before?” He turns his head just slightly, as if replaying the moment in his mind. “Nothing real ever looks perfect up close?”
Then he looks at me again, properly, and it’s… different. His gaze doesn’t skim past me the way it usually does. Instead, it looks as if he’s searching for something in my face.
For a reaction, maybe?
